There seemed to be a revival of life in the old man, death was for the moment driven back; and Margaret hung over him in an ecstasy, the two crooning together.

David could see her thin bent figure--the sharpened delicacy of the emaciated face set in the rusty black net cap which was tied under the chin, and fell in soft frills on the still brown and silky hair.

He saw her weaver's hand folded round 'Lias's, and he could hear 'Lias speaking in a weak thread of a voice, but still sanely and rationally.

It gave him a start to catch some of the words--he had been so long accustomed to the visionary 'Lias.
'Have yo rested, Margaret ?' 'Ay, dear love, three hours an moor.

Betsy James wor here; she saw yo wanted for nowt.